a heavy gauze curtain
which glitters and ruffles uncertainly
in the dark. A light
- a firefly, a lonely white pearl –
squeaks through the repugnant darkness.
The lamplight spreads throughout the room and
flickers with ardor.
Golden thread; Eos’ arm,
that extends from the open lantern and
caresses your cherubic face.
Your Godly image
rises up to me from the nightly depths like a
glowing pink bubble
- a shiny new toy; a pink balloon.
Rosy alabaster skin;
a golden fleece for hair;
soft, rosy cheeks as if kissed
by the roses which grow upon the
hallowed earth within the Elysian gardens.
You are the epitome of love.
Peel back the curtain
and watch as Aurora opens her eyes and
embraces the sleeping land,
warming it with her golden hues,
faint pastels and powder blues.
You murmur in your sleep.
Your moth breath as soft
as a gentle summer wind that blows
across the wheat fields and through the rose
beds. A breath that quietens
- a retreating tide across the sand.
I stroke your silky skin.
I kiss your pillow like lips.
I know the price
which I now must pay.
I do. I do.
I just had to see you,
gaze upon you.
This room is the east and
you are the sun;
the bright shimmer upon a lake;
the shiny, silver lining upon a raincloud
which bursts and cries,
cries, cries. Releasing
its succulent fluids
- your élan vital –
into the fertile valley below.
Fluids that darken from a
translucent crystal to a
of sweet, sweet juice.
Which bleed and bleed
from the cracked cores of the passionflower
and shimmers upon the blades
of grass like the morning dew.
Now, I must part from you.
My soul mate;
the “toc” to the “tic”.
but I must leave you behind.
From this somber chamber,
this rouge atrium that beats of love,
I step out and stretch my dove wings
and take flight upon Apollo’s golden chariot
and scatter our seed between the
baby’s breath and forget-me-nots.